


Sleepyhead

by fadedink



Category: The Boondock Saints
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-10
Updated: 2009-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/pseuds/fadedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor wakes up at the same time each morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepyhead

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://dawning-star.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dawning-star.livejournal.com/)**dawning_star** \-- happy birthday, sweetie!

_**FIC: "Sleepyhead" - 1/1, PG13, CM/MM, BDS**_  
Title: Sleepyhead  
Fandom: The Boondock Saints  
Pairing: Connor/Murphy  
Rating: PG13  
Summary: Connor wakes up at the same time each morning.  
Disclaimer: Fiction, folks. But if you believe this really happened, I've got some prime real estate I wanna sell you…  
Notes: For [](http://dawning-star.livejournal.com/profile)[**dawning_star**](http://dawning-star.livejournal.com/) \-- happy birthday, sweetie!

  
  
Connor wakes up at the same time each morning. It's that last few minutes, just before dawn, when the room is still gray and hazy and he can't quite focus on anything past the bed. But nothing past the bed matters.

All that matters is Murphy, lying right there beside him, still pliant and quiet, lost in the world of dreams.

Murphy doesn't know, but Connor watches him until the sun comes up and floods the room with light. He lies there, propped on one elbow, and lets his eyes roam Murphy's face. Memorizes the way his mouth twists slightly as his dream changes, the way his nose twitches when Connor finally lets his fingertips trace the lines his eyes have just explored.

He lets Murphy's breath wash over him, pebble his skin, when Murphy finally grumbles and rolls into Connor's warmth. He smiles as Murphy's arm worms its way beneath the sheet and around Connor's waist, squeezing tight as if Murphy's afraid, even in his dreams, that Connor will leave. It's a groundless fear, but the subconscious is a peculiar beast.

Murphy's heat, like a furnace on the coldest nights, soaks into Connor. His lean body shifts against Connor until Connor is fully awake and Murphy's lashes are fluttering as he fights it, wanting just five more minutes.

Connor soaks it all in, branding the beloved features on his heart, his soul. He thinks the world could end tomorrow and he wouldn't care, not so long as Murphy was right there beside him.


End file.
